He did not fall back. He did not scramble for a new solution. In fact, he took a step forward despite knowing the danger. And in response, the silver girl's hand reached inside her black cape. She put away the bible and let go of her staff to free both her hands.

"You use that well."

"So do you. You did well familiarizing your body with it."

There were only a few centimeters between the two nemeses now.

The silver girl and the Golden leader glared at each other.

A moment later, their clenched fists mercilessly struck each other.

It was like a fierce rush in boxing.

This fight to the death was a contradictory mix of a short-term showdown and a test of endurance.

After coming this far, there was no need to fight in an elegant or clever way. Nor could they. They did not even consider dodging and they tried to secure their own safety and snatch at victory by being the first to knock out their opponent with a high-speed barrage. They were focused solely on wearing down their opponent like that.

Aleister caught Mathers's fist on her forehead and her fist tore into his ribs from the side. Mathers stopped Aleister's fist with a raised knee and swung his fist down for a harsh blow to the top of her head.

What did the heaven-razing hellfire matter?

Why should they care about the earth-cleansing deluge?

Those were no more than trivial effects. This was a true battle to tear down your opponent's life. If anyone had witnessed this scene, the mere sight of it may have stolen their soul away.

The far-too-disturbing sound of human muscle and bone crushing human flesh and blood continued on and on.

Wearing down a diamond required dust from an equally hard diamond. Aleister and Mathers worked to punch, crush, and kill each other, but that had the effect of removing the excess of their souls and exposing the cores of their beings.

"I envied you, Mathers. Not that it means much to this version of you."

"…"

"I was born into a privileged life. I had plenty of money in childhood and I lived off of my father's inheritance to enjoy my adulthood. Yet there was not a single understander around me!! Mathers, I still find it hard to believe. What led you to create the Golden cabal? What was it I lacked!? Why was it you all those talented people gathered around!?"

"The man known as Mathers envied you as well."

That response seemed to act as a dividing line.

Even as he accurately struck the silver girl in the temple.

There was even a look of enjoyment on that monster's face.

"I lived in a corner of London. I was always struggling with money. I made my wife Mina suffer. Why was it always you? You effortlessly received more money than you knew what to do with, you had everything you could want, and yet you never accomplished anything with it all!!"

She did not waver.

In fact, Aleister threw her own fist straight up into the fist striking her temple. She targeted the wrist. Attacking a weak point was not the only way of preventing further attacks.

"Did you care about your family, Mathers?"

"I had no complaints with Mina."

A dull sound rang out.

But breaking a bone or two would change nothing at this point. Technically speaking, the Mathers here was not even human.

"Cold and dry," said a solemn voice.

A stone spike appeared out of thin air and he forced it into his wrist to take the place of his bone.

Aleister was no longer focused on cheap tricks like that.

"Then why couldn't you abandon your obsession with Scotland? Was the home you shared with your wife not enough!?"

"What about you? You were tormented, you raged at the unfairness of it all, and you were stricken with powerlessness, so why did you never seek some 'nonexistent place'!?"

Fist flew toward fist, passed by each other, and struck the opposite face.

The sound of impact burst out.

They had not planned this. The ground gave way before their legs did. With nothing for their feet to grip, Aleister and Mathers slid just a bit apart.

And while they continued to glare at each other, the silver girl spat out some more words.

"If you had learned the warmth of a family, understood its value, and anchored your soul there, your heart would never have wavered so much. You would have forgotten all about your fixation on Scotland and you never would have been plagued by paranoid delusions that your position in the cabal was threatened. You never would have summoned Coronzon and targeted me and my family."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Even after I struggled against fate and emerged victorious at the Battle of Blythe Road, I never did acquire something eternal. So I can never forgive you, no matter what. That life should have been beloved above all to you, so how could you trample on her and put her second, Matherrrrrrrrrrrs!?"

"Money, intelligence, looks, athletics, and magical skill. You had everything except love, so you can never understand what it is like to be so pathetically destitute." Mathers gave a wobbly wave of his forcibly-attached right hand, but he showed no sign of pain. "Mina had artistic talent. She belonged to an elite family known to the public world for producing a philosopher. Her friend Annie had money and Westcott had popularity. …But what did I have? If I hadn't claimed to be a Scottish noble and used my magical skill as evidence, I could only have curled up in a ball like the miserable wretch I was!!"

What was it that kind nun had said?

A lack of self-confidence led to insults and hostility toward others.

"You had to compare yourself to your own wife, Mathers?"

"I wanted to create a place for myself. I had to when everyone was trying to just give me one. Mina Mathers. I wanted to become someone sturdy enough to support that woman!! …But that is not the real issue."

A wet sound followed.

It came from the silver girl's right palm. No, it came from more than just there. Blood also sprayed from her left hand, right foot, and left foot. The bleeding kept Aleister from moving. Meanwhile, Mathers's only injury was the one to his right wrist. Plus, he was an indestructible grimoire of tarot, so any apparent damage could be ignored.

Not even supernatural magic allowed one to ignore the limits of their physical body. Also, Aleister had excelled in the pantomime-like Spiritual Tripping. Grabbing a bible and drawing on its wisdom did not change the basic idea of contacting the supernatural. They were working to understand the great tree of magic by grafting the branch of the cross onto it.

This was a magical battle.

It could not have been more obvious what would happen if one of them lost the ability to freely wield magic.

A clear change came over the battle.

They had been wearing each other down to the limit, but they had come to a turning point.

Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers.

The person going by that name finished his talk in a frighteningly deep voice.

"All of that applies to the Mathers who suffered in that ordinary home a century ago. It has nothing to do with me here and now. Quit running around making a mess of things. I will be the one to kill Coronzon. She will rue the day she created a monster like me."

He was truly an indestructible original grimoire.

But that did not mean the concept of death did not apply to him. Had he already forgotten about Edward Berridge? To transform the grimoire's defenses such that they could behave like humans, a massive amount of energy had to be constantly supplied from the ley lines running through the earth. By inundating space itself with just as much energy, the flow of power from the earth to the grimoire would be blocked and they would at least lose their human form and mind. In other words, Mathers would die.

However.

(Aleister does not have the time or range of movement for that.)

Mathers was certain of that.

It did not matter how far the silver girl pushed herself or if she pathetically clung to him while gasping for breath.

Only those who remained focused on victory could overcome this cold choice.

(Aleister can no longer move her limbs, so she cannot use such a major technique. If I crush her here, I can continue on. I need no reason to do it. I simply must defeat her here!!)

However.

The silver girl named Aleister Crowley shook her head.

She gave him a pitying look and said something that was not at all begging for her life.

"I misunderstood you."

"What?"

"There is something you cannot buy with any sum of money, something you cannot solve even with the greatest intellect, and something you cannot capture by running around the mountains or dressing up in the nicest clothes. That thing is love. That is the great treasure I so longed for. But, Mathers, I see now that you did not hold that eternal light any more than I had. I was wrong to direct such maddening envy your way."

His personality had never been easy to control.

Even in the Golden cabal, only Westcott and Mina had managed to get along with him. Westcott had invited him to help create the magic cabal, but the two had ultimately split apart and led two rival factions.

The only one who had remained with him to the very end was his wife, Mina Mathers.

The love she had shown him was undoubtedly real.

But…

"Mathers, you never accepted her love. No, you couldn't accept it. It's so silly, but you couldn't accept it even as she stayed by your side and filled your world with such kindness. If you had only realized that, you would have found the greatest peace."

"…"

"And this version of you? You have nothing. The Golden? The world's greatest magic cabal? What value does that have? Don't make me laugh, Mathers. Power is only a means to an end. Power without a goal is no different from an old piece of furniture sitting forgotten in a corner of the attic."

That was Aleister Crowley's answer to the Golden cabal.

It was a judgment only the one who had destroyed it could give.

And.

And.

And.

One more red wound burst open on the silver girl's side. First her limbs and now the torso that contained so many organs. That seemed to confirm the trend. There was a decisive difference in damage between Aleister and Mathers.

And yet it was Mathers who frowned below his witch's hat.

He did not know where this was leading or what result it would have. Yes, no matter how trivial it seemed, there was now something on the field that Mathers did not understand.

"What is that, Aleister?"

"A wound."

"I don't recognize it. I didn't give you that wound!!"

"It is Stigmata. These marks are the proof of a Saint. When their purified body synchronizes with the Son of God, they gain the same wounds he received when crucified two thousand years ago."

Wind whirled around the silver girl.

The number of wounds was not driving her closer to defeat.

They were a countdown to her ascension.

The two geniuses had both used spells based on the Son of God to build their bodies up to a higher level. So what had divided the two of them? Why did Aleister have these wounds while Mathers did not?

Yes, the Son of God did not use miracles in an emotionless mechanical fashion.

As proof, the legends did not work without a certain trigger.

The bloody girl explained.

"Magic power refers to the power refined from one's life force. Magic refers the phenomena produced by that magic power. Therefore, all magic is supported by the original power born from the depths of life."

These were likely words written in no grimoire.

After a century of study, she had surpassed even the original Golden cabal. And now Magician Aleister Crowley was enlightened to a single truth.

It was the most fundamental of all things.

But at times, something could only be conveyed when put to words.

"So magic is a system that gives physical form to the feelings you have for those that matter most. At times it heals and at times it harms. At times it draws them close and at times it pushes them away. All spells contain the true power that contains both happiness and fear as two sides of the same coin. Begone with you, emotionless and unfeeling one. The likes of you are not fit to use magic!!!!!!"

The countdown was complete.

The sinner had ascended.

To reiterate, the number of apparent injuries was irrelevant.

Inundating that space with energy would obstruct the transfer of power from the ley lines to the grimoire. That would cause the temporary human form and mind to scatter and erase his existence as an individual.

So to someone who had tried to judge the progress of the battle by physical damage, the ending arrived quickly, suddenly, and without warning.

But to someone who was looking at the bigger picture by focusing on the total energy in the world, this result may have been the end of a dizzyingly long journey. Just like stacking up small stones to ultimately build a giant tower, that magical battle may have required incredible effort and precise balance.

Looking back, Magician Aleister Crowley had indeed been someone who took a larger viewpoint in order to prevent the recoil of her magic from hitting a complete stranger.

"…"

Aleister had transformed into a mass of pure white light and Mathers could only smolder as he had no countermeasure for this.

So in that final moment, the Golden leader only stared at the approaching white light.

The Mathers here was an original grimoire created from tarot cards. The other Golden members were the same. That was why his goal had been to outdo Coronzon to free them all.

But had that really been the only method of saving them?

The Golden? The world's greatest magic cabal?

What value does that have?

Those wise words had come so readily.

And that human could only speak them because she had lived through that era and had voiced her objection during the Battle of Blythe Road.

"I see."

In truth, he may have wanted to free his soul with those two words.

He was known as the Golden leader, but he was a different person from the man who lived a century before.

And he said more with a definite smile.

"So this is the true destroyer of order: Aleister Crowley."

- To Aru Majutsu no Index NT Vol 21 Chapter 4 Part 3